A Little Slice of Heaven [Namjin]

Chapter Thirty-Four: Getting Grounded

AN:  So close to the end, guys!  For real this time!

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The moment his phone buzzed with a text notification, Namjoon practically threw himself across the small bedroom to grab it. In his haste, he knocked over his office chair, tripped on his laptop bag, tipped over his dirty-clothes hamper, and slammed into the wall next to his nightstand, bonking his head on the hard surface.

Rubbing at the rapidly forming lump on his noggin with one hand, he swept the phone off the nightstand and unlocked it with the other to glance at the message. His hopeful smile faded to neutral as he saw Jackson's name attached to the text. His ex was merely letting him know that he'd received word from the courts that their divorce had been finalized, and that he'd found a couple things that were Namjoon's if the blond wanted to come pick them up.

With a heavy sigh, he dropped down onto the edge of his mattress and sent back a quick text that he would do so in a couple days when he had time. Then, chewing on his bottom lip, he opened up the last text conversation he'd had with Seokjin and stared at the screen, doing his best to not spiral into a nervous fit.

His last message had been sent at nine that morning, asking if Jin had any big plans for the day. It was now just past noon and his boyfriend had still not replied. The little 'read' subtext under his message mocked the blond, making him imagine twelve different disastrous scenarios to explain why the older man had seen his message but had not replied.

'Car crash' was currently winning the race for what had happened, followed closely by the equally likely 'Work catastrophe that needed his attention is preventing him from getting back to his phone' and the far less likely 'eaten by a shark.'

After giving Seokjin a solid half-hour to at least acknowledge Namjoon's text, the younger had tried calling him. It had eventually gone to voicemail after what felt like an agonizingly large number of rings. He'd left what he felt was a casual 'I'm not worried you were run over by a random wildebeest' message asking the older to call him when he had a chance.

The second time he'd called, it went straight to voicemail.

Jin had never gone quiet on Namjoon before. Every day since Namjoon left Jeju, they had been texting, calling, and even video-chatting, and the younger man was starting to worry he'd said or done something that had upset the other. He had read and re-read their last few text conversations and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He had run through their last few calls, as well. He couldn't remember having said anything that would have been upsetting.

He considered messaging the posse to make sure Jin was okay, but he knew everyone would probably be busy. They typically worked on the weekend; their days off were scattered throughout the weekday based on the needs of the resort. He told himself if he didn't hear from Seokjin within the next hour, he'd maybe try Yoongi's number. The lethargic chef was the one who was least likely to be occupied since he didn't typically get to the restaurant until three or so to start prep, and he was probably only just now waking up for the day.

Namjoon dropped his head into one of his hands as he scrolled through the messages again. The only thing he could think of was that maybe Jin was unhappy that Namjoon had decided to take his parents up on their offer. That made very little sense, though. His classes were all online so he could continue them once he moved to Jeju, and Seokjin had been very encouraging about Namjoon allowing his parents the chance to repair their relationship. In the three weeks that Namjoon had been reoccupying his childhood home, Seokjin hadn't given any indication that he was upset about it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a light rapping on the doorjamb. His father stood in the opening, plucking absently at the side of his trousers as his gaze swept over the disorganized bedroom, pausing only briefly on Namjoon before moving to the stacks of un-shelved books, piles of unfolded clothing, upturned office chair, and empty boxes the young man had still not tossed out after unpacking.